


Hope is the Thing with Feathers

by susannah_wilde



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Healer Harry, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, Veela
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:14:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/susannah_wilde/pseuds/susannah_wilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh Godric, I hope so, but I have to be sure. I need to know you love me. It would kill me if I thought you were with me out of a sense of obligation.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope is the Thing with Feathers

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Hope is the Thing with Feathers  
>  **Author:** [](http://susannah-wilde.livejournal.com/profile)[**susannah_wilde**](http://susannah-wilde.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Pairing:** Harry Potter/Scorpius Malfoy  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Word Count:** 2,771 words  
>  **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of JK Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic/Warner Bros., Inc. No profit is being made and no copyright infringement is intended.  
>  **Summary:** “Oh Godric, I hope so, but I have to be sure. I need to know you love me. It would kill me if I thought you were with me out of a sense of obligation.”  
>  **Author's Notes:** Dear [](http://corona-0304.livejournal.com/profile)[**corona_0304**](http://corona-0304.livejournal.com/) , Thank you for leaving a wonderful prompt of _Injured! veela!Scorpius and nursing!Harry_.This is my first time writing a veela fic, but I hope it turned out well. Thanks to the [](http://do-me-veela.livejournal.com/profile)[**do_me_veela**](http://do-me-veela.livejournal.com/) mods for hosting this fest andto my beta B. I added more, so all other mistakes are my own. Title taken from the Emily Dickinson poem of the same name.

Hope is the Thing with Feathers

  
Harry took a deep breath and knocked on the door, feeling the wards shutting him out. When he didn’t get a response, he tried again, but nothing. He dropped his hand and sighed. How does one explain to a boyfriend of only three months the reason he’s standing outside his flat late at night? And how does one do so without sounding creepy?

He was about to turn and walk away, when the door opened up to reveal a very sleepy-looking Scorpius, wearing only green silk pyjama bottoms. His blond hair stuck up in the back, making him look thoroughly shagged, and his grey eyes were partially closed, an effect that came from sleeping too much.

Scorpius stifled a yawn. “Hello,” he called out, peering out and glancing both ways down the hallway, his wand hidden in his hands. Harry took off the Invisibility Cloak and stood there in his wrinkled Muggle suit and messy black hair, feeling oddly inadequate.

“Harry?” Scorpius said, his eyes widening as he got a closer look at the man in front of him. “What are you doing here?” He wrapped his arms around his chest, eyes more alert as he stepped back in the shadows.

But Harry had seen the gash that began three inches underneath Scorpius’ heart and ran to the right. The skin was inflamed and red, and judging from the shallow gasps that Scorpius gave as he spoke, must cause him pain.

He stepped inside the flat before Scorpius could close the door, and held up his wand.

“Are you all right? What happened to you?” Harry asked, waving his wand over Scorpius’ chest to start the basic diagnostic spells that every healer did when they received a new patient. The colourful lines shimmered around the pale body, giving off readings that stated he was in stable condition.

“Stop that! I’ve already been to St. Mungo’s and was released a few hours ago.” Scorpius pulled away.

“You were released?” Harry stopped the spells. “That wound isn’t properly healed.”

“Yes it is. It’s just a stray curse from this afternoon. Johnson got the worst of it.”

“You were the other Auror hit? Why didn’t I see you when you arrived?” Johnson had come in that afternoon with burns on his left arm and the healers had spent hours trying to restore the skin.

“Father insisted I see the family healer,” Scorpius said. Of course. Old families like the Malfoys had their own private healer, but Harry didn’t trust the archaic methods used to treat patients, which more often than not harmed them.

“May I?” Harry asked, pointing at the red gash, “just for my own sake.”

Scorpius rolled his eyes, but gave a small nod. Harry kneeled and ran a finger over the rough skin. Scorpius flinched, the only indication that he was in pain, but otherwise didn’t move. He allowed Harry to turn him around to view the rest of the damage. The red gash curved under the ribcage and onto his back, before going straight up and stopping just beneath the shoulder blades. He gave one last look at the violent slash of red against pale skin, trying not to think of the only other time he had seen a curse scar mar the expanse of smooth skin. He stood up.

“Why didn’t your healer put dittany to properly close and heal the wound?”

“They want it to heal naturally.” Scorpius shrugged his right shoulder. “To be honest, I was mostly out when they explained it to me. I have to go back tomorrow.”

He kissed Scorpius, bringing him forward to tip his head back, before placing his hands in the soft hair and gently tugging the strands. He tried to slide his hands down Scorpius’ back to massage the skin, just as the blond liked, but Scorpius pulled back.

“Sorry. My back’s been hurting lately,” he explained, slowly rolling his shoulders back.

“Well, at least you have a valid excuse for standing me up at the restaurant,” Harry teased, but Scorpius didn’t crack a smile.

“Shit,” he said, and frowned. “That was tonight. I’m sorry- I didn’t send an owl.”

“Understandable. You were at St. Mungo’s.” Harry looked around. “Well, now that I’m here, I might as well make us something to eat-”

“No, you don’t have to do that. I was just going back to bed and sleep.”

“I don’t mind. You probably haven’t eaten since being discharged. Besides, I did promise you dinner,” Harry said.

Scorpius stared at Harry, whose green eyes were determined and made no room for argument, and sighed. “Fine, but I’ll help.”

“No, you go to bed. I _can_ cook, you know.” Scorpius raised an eyebrow. “I spent my childhood cooking for my relatives.” Scorpius’ mouth tightened at the mention of his past, but before he could comment, Harry interrupted him.

“Just go rest,” Harry said. “I’ll just make you dinner and make sure you’re all right. I’ll even leave if you want me to.” This time Scorpius nodded before he walked away with a wary glance over his shoulder. “My bedroom is at the very end,” he called out.

Harry took off his jacket and rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows. The kitchen wasn’t stocked with anything grand, but he did manage to find a tin of chicken soup. Now he wished he had taken Molly up on her offer of teaching him basic cooking spells. While he heated the soup up, he leaned against the small square table.

It felt nice looking after someone. He always thought he’d settle down by now, maybe even have a family, but why should things go according to plan for him, just because he had defeated Voldemort. Yet here he was, not alone per se, but he never expected to be with a Malfoy. Harry had known there was something different about Scorpius from the first time they met, even if he couldn’t quite place a finger on it.

Scorpius’ Auror partner, Johnson, had been brought in after an attack and had to stay for overnight observation. Harry, who had been assigned as his healer, had been startled to see Scorpius sitting next to Johnson’s bed, despite visiting hours having long passed. Harry had treated Johnson, ignoring Scorpius, who watched his every move in silence. Just as Harry had been about to leave, a question was called out in the darkness.

“Is he going to be all right?”

That had stopped Harry in his tracks. It was such a common question asked at St. Mungo’s, yet he couldn’t remember a single time that he had heard Draco Malfoy ask after anyone. He considered ignoring the question, but he knew it wasn’t fair to judge Scorpius based on Harry’s personal opinion of Draco.

Instead, he had called upon his bedside manner to assure Scorpius that Johnson would be well enough to be released in the morning. An earnest _thank you_ was Scorpius quiet reply before Harry had left. Harry had filed that memory away in things he’d never thought he’d live to see, and didn’t think much of it.

Until a few days later, when Scorpius had owled him, asking if they could talk over tea. Surprised, he had accepted out of curiosity.

The visit had started out awkwardly, as there were many topics that couldn’t be discussed. They sat in silence until Harry had asked about Draco, who after the war had managed to restore the family name, and now made a fortune dealing with the Gringotts goblins.

“My father?” Scorpius had asked, with a frown on his face. “He still thinks you’re a git, with even more of a hero complex, who only became a healer to continue saving people.”

Scorpius had said that with brutal honesty, grey eyes looking directly at him, that Harry couldn’t help but laugh, in spite of the insult sent his way. And Scorpius has smiled then, making his features less like his father, more rounded and full of life, and Harry found himself wanting to know this person more.

From tea dates to meeting over lunch, they grew closer, and he liked the idea of having Scorpius a constant presence in his life. It seemed that Scorpius wanted the same thing, but Harry had often wondered why they were taking this relationship so slowly. There were times when he caught Scorpius gauging his reaction, as if hesitant he would say or do the wrong thing. At first Harry had thought it was the old pure-blooded tradition of courting and the rules associated with it. He only had to remember the rumours of Malfoy that flourished at Hogwarts, to know that that couldn’t the reason. He didn’t mind; it was a refreshing change from his earlier relationships, where people had only wanted to be with the hero.

The soup spilling over the pot brought Harry back to the present. He poured the chicken soup into a bowl, and placed it on a tray, along with a cup of chamomile tea. The photographs hanging on the walls glared at him as he passed by, and he walked a bit faster to reach the end of the hallway. He knocked twice and, hearing no answer, pushed open the door, and almost dropped the tray.

Scorpius was splayed out on the bed, his lower body tangled in blue bed sheets, asleep. While that by itself wasn’t a cause for concern, the huge pair of white wings that spread out from Scorpius’ back was.

Harry levitated the tray to the night stand before sitting down next to Scorpius, who shivered. Harry cast a heating spell before tangling his hand in the soft hair. Harry loved it loose, the way it would go wild in the wind, making Scorpius look care-free. He traced the curve of Scorpius’ neck, placing a kiss on the warm skin, before continuing down until he reached the start of the wings. He leaned down to run a hand gently through the top layer of feathers.

The feathers were long, white, and felt _wonderful_. Soft and fluffy, with just a hint of magic that sparked through when he touched them. Why Scorpius felt the need to hide this, he couldn’t fathom a guess. He could only imagine how gorgeous Scorpius would look when he stood up and let his wings open. Perhaps he could convince Scorpius to let them sleep underneath his spread wings. An idea popped in his head and he glanced back down to make sure Scorpius was still asleep. Surely it won’t hurt to just take one feather?

Harry tried to pluck the feather as gently as he could, until Scorpius opened his eyes with a loud yelp. He pushed away from the bed, trying to stand, but the weight of the wings threw him off balance and he landed on the floor. Scorpius reached out behind him, and when he felt the wings, he picked up the bed sheet and flung it over his back.

Grey eyes stared at him with a look of desperation and a hint of betrayal.

“You’re a veela,” Harry said softly, crossing the room to stand in front of Scorpius.

“Yes, it’s a family _gift_ ,” Scorpius said, and Harry was surprised at the bitterness found there.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Harry reached out and his hand grazed the wings, which felt better with the silk sheets. Had he been on his guard, he would have never said the first thing that came out of his mouth. “They’re beautiful.”

Scorpius scowled and leaned away from Harry, until the wings folded back and disappeared, dropping the bed sheet to the floor.

“Yes, well everything about a veela is supposed to be attractive to other people,” he muttered, looking away. “What do you know about veela?”

Harry frowned. “Not much,” he admitted. “Just that they are creatures with allures and charms that draw people in and have a bit of control over them.” Harry laughed before saying, “I remember wanting to impress them at the Quidditch World Cup when I was fourteen. However, those were all female veela. I’ve never met any male veela, so I wouldn’t know if their allures work on me. Merlin knows your father doesn’t count because I think I’ve always hated him.”

Scorpius looked skeptical. “But you seem to be fascinated by my wings.”

“They _are_ beautiful, I can’t deny that,” Harry said, staring wistfully at Scorpius’ back. “But I think you’re charming, witty, and funny, which might be because you’re a veela, but I choose to think it’s who you are.”

Scorpius smiled at that and walked forward, opening his arms. Harry wrapped his arms around Scorpius, mindful of the gash, sliding them down his back until they rested on slim hips.

“Come have dinner with my parents,” Scorpius asked, blowing warm breath against Harry’s throat.

Harry sighed and pulled back until he could see Scorpius’ eyes. “Merlin, I wish I could, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Harry said, and at those words, Scorpius stiffened.

“What do you mean?” There was a slight coldness in Scorpius’ voice.

“Don’t you want to save the dinner for your mate? I _do_ know veela have mates.”

Scorpius pulled away and crossed his arms. “I do.”

Harry’s stomach twisted slightly at those words. “You already _found_ your mate? Then what are you doing with me?”

Scorpius turned away. “It’s you,” he admitted, sitting at the edge of the bed. “I felt the bond the first time I saw you, when a group of healers came to do the medical assessment for new Auror trainees. I ignored it, didn’t even tell Father, and while it started as a dull pain, I managed to stay away. I kept silent even as the pain increased, even when Mother found out and begged me to tell her. It wasn’t until this year, when I saw you at St. Mungo’s, that I knew I couldn’t stay away. I was surprised when you replied to my owl.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t have a choice of who my mate is, but the least I could do is choose not to use veela allure to ensnare them. It’s a bit of Malfoy pride, but I wanted you to want me for myself, not because of some veela magic.”

“But I do like you, Scorpius. I hope you know that.”

“Oh Godric, I hope so, but I have to be sure. I need to know you love me. It would kill me if I thought you were with me out of a sense of obligation.”

Harry rose from the bed and kneeled in front of Scorpius, placing his hands on the blond’s knees. He looked up into those grey eyes that were wide open, full of hope and longing.

“What happens if we don’t bond?”

“I have seven months until my twenty-first birthday to figure it out. I won’t force you to bond with me.”

Harry looked at Scorpius, who _has_ made him happy these past few months. If he had been told from the beginning, then he probably would have bonded with Scorpius, because it would be expected from him, especially from Draco Malfoy. But Scorpius had chosen to carry the burden by himself, to risk death, just to give Harry the choice. That alone made Harry respect Scorpius even more. He reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips, catching Scorpius by surprise.

“I’m not in love with you, Scorpius,” Harry admitted, and he felt the younger man pull away. “But I think I’m very close.” He pulled them to their feet, enjoying the weight of the warm body on his chest, breathing in the scent of Scorpius’ skin. He raised Scorpius' chin and kissed him again.

“Yes,” Harry murmured against Scorpius’ lips. “I’d like to have dinner with your parents, on one condition.”

Scorpius turned away, and judging from the brief glance of his face, he expected the worst. But Harry had only one thing on his mind since finding out that Scorpius was a veela.

“What?”

“Spread your wings.”

Scorpius let out a breathy laugh, and met Harry’s green eyes. “Out of all the things you could ask for, _this_ is what you want? Idiot.”

“It’s what I want,” Harry agreed. “Besides, you have seven months to convince me why I should put up with you for the rest of our lives. These wings will go a long way in helping you achieve that.”

Before Scorpius rolled his eyes and called him an idiot again, Harry saw the look of happiness shine brightly on his face.


End file.
